


lattes and shoe strings

by icryforbensolo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Ben is shy, Coffee Shop Owner Ben Solo, F/M, Grumpy Ben, HEA, Mild Angst, No Pregnancy, Pining, Rey has a sweet tooth, Rey is chatty, Reylo - Freeform, THERE’S ONLY ONE BED, ben needs a hug, flannel and sweaters, snowstorm, teacher rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icryforbensolo/pseuds/icryforbensolo
Summary: Ben Solo is the owner of a local coffee shop & cafe. Rey is new in town and always orders the sweetest drinks imaginable. She makes Ben crazy.orThe author write a soft two shot coffeehouse au that is a love letter to autumn and coffee and pumpkin scones.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 57
Kudos: 150





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is my first fic that I have ever written, so please be gentle. I tried really hard. Very lightly edited.  
> This idea sort of came to me while I was working on my bigger fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Every Saturday without fail, the girl sits at the table closest to the espresso bar, pulls out her red pen, and works. She’s there for hours, sipping on some sugary latte monstrosity that makes Ben lose his mind every damn time. Today’s is with caramel and chocolate and toffee with whipped cream and more caramel and a crushed up cookie that she convinced Rose, the morning barista to add. 

“Sweet like you,” Rose says to her with a smile and a wink as she hands the girl her coffee. The girl beams as she saunters away to her table (not  _ her  _ table, Ben thinks, just a table in his shop that she sits at every single Saturday. There’s a difference). 

He does not pay attention to her as she chews at her pen, scratching away some sort of note, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He has never seen someone so focused while working. It’s like the rest of the world disappears and it is just her and her work and the coffee. And Ben, but she does not need to know that part. 

It’s now the sixth Saturday that she’s been there (not that Ben’s been counting), and Rose is out sick so he’s actually behind the bar for once. It’s rare that he actually gets to make drinks these days, but that’s what happens when you own a business. It’s nice and he doesn’t mind the pumpkin based drinks that Rose insisted they roll out for the fall because pumpkin will sell and people like to drive through as the leaves turn colors. “It’s good for the aesthetic, Ben,” Rose said, stuffing another pumpkin scone in her mouth one day. As always, Rose was right and pumpkin upped their sales and he made the decision that he would just defer to Rose for all things  _ aesthetic,  _ because she knew and he very clearly did not. 

The girl is late today. He tries not to think too much into it. Because of course the one day that he’s actually making the drinks, she does not show up. Or maybe that’s a good thing because then he does not have to make whatever sugary monstrosity she makes up. That much sugar is really no good for you. Maybe he’ll tell her that. That is, if he ever talks to her. And that’s a major if. It also would help to know her name. 

She finally shows up after the mid morning rush. She’s wearing a sweater today, soft and light pink with a darker red pattern. Her hair is different, he thinks. Did she cut it? Straighten it? She probably notices him staring but it’s fine. He watches her approach the counter and now he has to talk to her because she’s here and she’s going to order one of her hellish concoctions. 

“Ah, flannel man, you are finally doing the dirty work,” she says with a quick grin, showing her dimples. And Ben always knew that she’s British but it’s a completely different thing to hear that voice with that accent speak words directly at him rather than towards Rose. 

He does not know how to respond and silence encompasses the air. She looks at him expectantly. “Alright, flannel man, you’re a man of few words, I get it. All tall and brooding, our very own resident Mr. Darcy.” She pauses, as though waiting for him to say something, and all he can think of is he’s pretty sure that she cut it--her hair that is. It seems shorter. She purses her lips and sighs. “Okay,” and he likes the way she lengthens the word. “I think that I’ll have a pumpkin latte but I want white mocha with it too and oooh maybe like a half shot of vanilla.” And that gets Ben’s brain back on track. 

Wait. Did she say pumpkin and white mocha and vanilla? “Are you serious?” he asks, because surely she’s joking **.**

“So you do speak! Yes, one of my friends from school used to make it for me all the time at Starbucks, but I want to try it here.” She’s excited now, at what he does not know because there is no way that this woman should be that hyped about her cup of sugar that she’s ordering.

He looks up at her, dead in the eyes and they are the most spectacular shade of hazel. “No.” 

“Sorry. What?” She’s still smiling but there’s something different about, possible shock. 

He shrugs. “There is no way that I am going to make a drink with enough sugar content in it to last lifetime. I’m pretty sure a drink like that could kill you.” 

The smile disappears from her face. “Well, I ordered it and I’ve definitely ordered a drink sweeter than that here and I am perfectly okay, so I don’t know where you get off.” 

It takes up a considerable amount of Ben’s brain power to not think about getting off with her. Nope. Not thinking of that. 

“Maybe Rose tolerates your ridiculous drinks but I own this place and when I work, it’s my rules.” He may be taking this a bit too far, but this is the most entertainment that he’s gotten in weeks. He should really go out more. Maybe he’ll text Hux. Maybe.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Well, Mr. Owner, what do you recommend I consume from your darling establishment?”

“Coffee.” She stares, prompting him to go on. “Our fireside blend is probably the best coffee we have, a nice full bodied dark roast with notes of chocolate and a little smokey.” She continues to stare at him, making him shift slightly underneath her stare. How is it that someone smaller than him can pin him down with one look? Maybe she can pin him down in other ways, his mind supplies. 

She laughs, half amused, half exasperated. “So you’re one of those pretentious coffee types? The kind that talks about the acidity in coffees and the roasting process and whatever?” He nods. Of course he is, he owns a coffee shop. He has to know coffee. “I bet you keep cold brew in a mason jar and eat quinoa and go to microbreweries and order IPAs even though they suck.” 

Under his breath, he mutters something about pilsners that she only catches half of. She elects to ignore it. “Well, flannel man, I want my sugar concoction that is probably twice the price of your boring black coffee and I want a pumpkin scone. And a chocolate chip cookie.” And then she gives him a sharp look, with one of those perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. That’s when Ben knows that he’s a goner. 

He gives up pestering her about her sweet tooth and rings up her order then makes her nonsense drinking. He doesn’t even think she’ll be able to taste the espresso this way, and he spent so much time picking out the perfect espresso when starting out. He warms up her scone because they are best had slightly warm so that the frosting sort of melts in your mouth when you take a bite. It is one of the few recipes that he has yet to tweak from his grandmother’s cookbook. She smiles warmly when he hands her the mug and plate, earlier argument forgotten. Ben thinks that he’ll do anything to make her smile again. 

“My name is Ben, by the way, not flannel man,” he tells her before walking away from her table. She’s pulling out a stack of what looks like math exams. So she’s a teacher. He tucks this information away for later. 

She takes a sip of her latte and smacks her lips (God, is it even possible for lips to look so luscious and pink?). She looks at him. “Ben. For a grump, you make a pretty alright latte.” And then she picks up her pen, leaving Ben absolutely flummoxed. 

It isn’t until after she leaves, sometime midafternoon, that he realizes that he still doesn’t know her name. 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●

The following Saturday, Rose is back and teasing him. The Homecoming football game was the night before and each year they induct alumni football players into the Hall of Fame. This year, he was selected, following his uncle and grandfather’s legacy. It also meant that he had to walk out into the middle of the football field during half time to receive a plaque and hear all his stats spouted off by the principal. Chandrila High’s principal just so happened to also be his mother, just to expand his embarrassment ten fold. If he tried looking for the sugar girl in the crowd, well that’s something he’s keeping to himself thank you very much. 

“She’s so proud of her baby boy. And those ears. Oh my god, if I knew you in high school, we would have been friends,” Rose teases. She's sitting on the counter, even though he always tells her that she can’t do that. She thinks it’s fine because she always sanitizes it afterwards anyway. He’s pretty given up with arguing with her since she’s his best employee (his only employee, he reminds himself). 

“We would not have been friends. Didn’t you go through a really intense emo phase? Only listened to My Chemical Romance and had one of those cringe emo haircuts?” He muses as he finishes his count of flavor syrups. 

Rose gasps. “Benjamin! I told you that in confidence!” Ben just shrugs. Rose has a flair for the dramatics. It makes her a good employee to have around, she’s good with customers. It also makes her a good friend, but he’ll never say that to her face. 

“What did you tell him in confidence?” Another voice asks. British accent. Ben perks up from his dark corner by the cupboards. There she is. 

Rose squeals! “REY! I missed you!” Ben’s brain short circuits. Rey. She now has a name to the face. Rey. It fits her so well with her bright smile and kind eyes. 

Rose and Rey start conversing as though they are long lost friends and maybe they are, it’s not like Ben is the most observant person in the world. He hears pieces of it though, pausing when he hears something about a grumpy old man and then notices Rose’s knowing glance towards him.

“Ben’s not so bad. He’s just particular about coffee. All the sweet stuff comes from me,” Rose tells her. Rey. It’s true. He was content with just doing a very basic coffeehouse menu, but Rose insisted otherwise.

Rey smiles at him whilst Rose tells her all his business secrets. Today she’s wearing another soft sweater, this one with multi-colored polka dots. He wants to touch the sweater. She orders her ridiculously sweet coffee and Rose makes it with glee. He tries to say something to her, but he can’t. He just discreetly glances at her as she settles into her spot (he admits to himself that he now considers the table closest to the espresso bar to be  _ her  _ spot, because it is). 

She’s there for awhile. Her stack of work is piled way up. She must be hungry, he decides. He approaches her table with his signature turkey apple sandwich. She looks up at him and then at the food and then at him again. 

Clearing his throat, “I thought you might be hungry. I made an extra one on accident, so here.” He did not, in fact, make an extra one, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

“No crisps? I thought your sandwiches always come with crisps.” 

“Salad is healthier. You need to make sure you get all your micronutrients, especially after consuming all that sugar,” he retorts. It’s a good salad, too. He just received a new produce order yesterday. 

She frowns slightly. “But I don’t want salad. Salad is for sad people. Do I look like a sad person, Ben?”

“Salad is for people who want to live past fifty-five, Rey.” 

She chuckles, one of those charming little half laughs. He wants to hear the whole thing. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time. And I know for a fact that you did not make that sandwich by accident because the only other people in here ordered soup. And you served it to them. Twenty minutes ago. That means that you made this sandwich just for me, which is sweet, but I want crisps. I’ll even say please if you want.” 

Ben’s ears go red. She’s observant. What a pair they make. He then proceeds to walk behind the bar, open a new bag of kettle chips and then silently hands her the entire bag. He then wordlessly goes back behind the bar as though nothing happens. He does not look at Rose. Rose looks as though she’s about to combust. 

He enters the backroom to prep food for Sunday. He does not think about Rey and her furrowed brow as she grades papers. Rose comes back to tell him that Rey left a twenty dollar tip. Ben tries not to think about that either.

And when Ben goes to bed that night, staring at his sloped ceiling, he definitely does not think about her mouth as it formed his name. Nope. Ben turns to the side and closes his eyes and dreams of hazel eyes and soft sweaters. 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

One day, Rey shows up to the shop on a Tuesday. Ben is helping the new kid he just hired (after his mom basically harassed him to hire the poor kid) get acclimated to the espresso bar. Why is it that everyone is so frightened to use the steam wand, he wonders as he hears the tell tale bell ring signaling that someone has opened the door. 

And there she is. She’s wearing a cardigan today, brown and oversized. She looks like the young, hip teacher that every kid adores, even if they don’t adore the subject. Ben just knows that the kids love her. 

“Hey, Miss Johnson,” Kaydel, his new employee, says. He looks at Kaydel and then at Rey. Rey keeps looking at him, with a slightly amused expression. It seems to be the only expression she wears when she’s near him. 

She sets down her purse on the counter. Ben’s never seen the purse before. She usually has a giant tote where she stores everything. “I just need a couple to-go orders today, Kay. A black coffee and a hot chocolate, please.”

Ben pauses as Kaydel rings in the order, his eyes narrow. “So you do drink black coffee,” his voice dry and accusing.

Rey laughs, a genuine full bellied laugh. Her face sort of scrunches up when she laughs. “Ew, no. It’s for a friend. We’re going to the apple orchard outside of town. I’ve never been to one before.”

A friend. A male friend by the sounds of it. And okay, of course. Ben doesn’t know anything about her life. Plus, she just said friend not boyfriend or partner or anything. Friends are platonic. Ben tries not to read anything into it.

Kaydel makes the drinks, with Ben’s supervision (although his brain is halfway to Mars at this point, so he isn’t very helpful). Ben doesn’t really talk much for the rest of the night. 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Saturdays go by and a routine is made. Rey comes in around 9am and stays until noon. Sometimes she stays later, those are usually days that she has to grade exams. Ben learns that she teaches both geometry and pre-calculus at the school. He still gripes at her about her sugar content. She always teases him that he acts like an old man. Some days he makes her lunch. Other days she compliments his hats (he has an assorted variety of baseball caps that he inherited from his grandfather, they help keep his longer locks away from the food). 

Soon enough it’s Halloween and this year it falls on a Saturday. Rose decorates the shop with spooky decor, much to Ben’s chagrin. He’s outvoted, though. It appears that Kaydel and Rose have ganged up against him. Now there’s fake cobwebs and spiders and a ghost hanging near the stairs that lead up to his apartment. He really dislikes Halloween. 

The shop is busy today. Lots of people are out and about enjoying one of the last fall days before the snow comes. Rey’s table is taken. When the young couple sat down there, he almost said something. He held his tongue, though, because it’s not as though the table is reserved or anything. It’s just. It kind of is. That’s Rey’s place. And she’s coming soon and the only table available in the cafe is far away from the espresso bar and how is he supposed to talk to her all the way over there? 

She walks in shortly after 9am, same as always. Today she is wearing a black sweater with little ghosts on it. Right behind her is the same guy from apple orchard day, big grin and all. Right. Okay. Rey walks up to the counter with her usual jovial attitude, eyes ablaze looking to start a debate. Unfortunately, Ben’s not really in the mood for debates. 

“I’ll go save us a table, peanut, you go ahead and order,” the man tells Rey as he walks away. He’s got a pretty muscular build, but Ben’s taller. He could take him. Ben quickly tries to think of other things like his new coffee shipment coming in on Monday. Anything to get his mind off of this man and his  _ peanut.  _

She’s herself, she orders her pumpkin and white chocolate latte, thankfully skipping the vanilla at least. She must sense that Ben’s a little off, because he’s not as responsive today (not that he was ever that responsive to begin with). She looks at him with worry in her eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” she asks, voice full of concern. 

Ben cannot tell her. He can’t. He cannot tell her that he’s completely enamoured with her and he looks forward to Saturdays specifically because she’ll be in his life and how she makes him feel a little less lonely. Because, god, he is so damn lonely. 

He doesn’t tell her that. Instead he shrugs and says, “I really hate Halloween.” Rey laughs and grins as if that’s the funniest thing in the world. As if he’s the funniest thing in the world. As he hands her the latte and black coffee and pumpkin scone, he watches her walk across the cafe to a different table to a different man shouting, “Hey, Finn, I snagged us a free pumpkin scone. That’s why I love this place so much.” He notices her shoes for the first time--such a simple thing. But he sees that they are wearing the same shoe--black high top converse, only one of her shoes is untied. 

Ben stares at the loose shoe string and thinks of this girl, this bright and unusual girl. And that’s when he realizes that he is utterly and completely in love with her. 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two, november arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments! I really appreciated them so much! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy part two of this little story

November hits with a massive snowstorm that leaves the coffeeshop vacant. Ben sends Rose home early before the roads get too treacherous. Most of the patrons are gone, too. Except for one. Back at her usual table sits Rey, furiously working as though nothing else matters in the world. Ben’s not even sure if she realizes that it’s snowing. 

Today she is wearing flannel. Ben almost spills hot coffee on himself when he sees. She grins and exclaims, “We’re matching!” She then proceeds to pick up her dark chocolate and marshmallow today. Ben even put mini marshmallows on top of the whipped cream. He’s now the biggest enabler of her sugar addiction, but he doesn’t mind so long as she gives him that large, cheeky grin. 

Ben’s phone pings. Usually he keeps it locked upstairs in his apartment, but today it’s on his person. Just because he wants to make sure Rose is safe with Hux and Kaydel is safe with her family. He looks at his phone and spots the weather alert citing blizzard conditions, near whiteout conditions throughout the entire county. 

“Rey,” he murmurs, gently tapping on her shoulder. She looks up from the latest exam (geometry today). 

“Ben,” she smiles. It’s one of those soft, tender smiles. The sort of smile that seems to be reserved just for Ben. At least that’s what Ben tells himself. He does not want to think about Rey smiling that way towards other people. Or at least a specific person. He tries not to think about Finn. The possibly maybe perhaps boyfriend. 

He clears his throat, trying to distract himself from his intruding thoughts. “There’s a blizzard warning for the entire area. You’ve been my only customer for the last two hours. I’m going to be shutting down for the day. Do you live far?” 

Rey looks out the window in surprise. She’s usually so attentive to things. “Snow,” she whispers, mostly to herself. “Um, I live in Takodana Heights,” she admits, cheeks reddening slightly. 

That just won’t do. Takodana Heights is a thirty minute drive on a good day. That’s when Ben makes a snap decision. “Well, that just won’t do. You’ll hole up with me for the night until it’s safe to drive.” He then walks up to the door, locking the two of them in. The weight of his choice swiftly changing the mood of the room. 

“Ben, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. I can call Poe, he has a very reliable truck. Good with snow and ice.” 

Poe. Why does Poe sound familiar? 

“Poe Dameron?” Ben ponders as he takes apart the espresso machine to clean. Poe went to school with him, a couple years younger. 

Rey blinks, a quizzical look forms. “Yes? He’s Finn’s boyfriend. How do you know him?”

Ben stops. Boyfriend. Finn’s boyfriend. And well, isn’t this an interesting development? “Oh, I don’t really know him. We went to school together, but everyone from here went to school together.” 

“I love that, though. Everyone knows each other. It’s so lovely to have a community like that. And all the festivals are so adorable.” 

Ben cannot contain his groan at the mere mention of the city’s festivals, aka the bane of his existence. “You only say that because you’re new in town. You wouldn’t say that if you went to the same festivals over and over again every year. Especially when your mom is on the planning committee.” 

Rey walks over, behind the bar and he almost says something but then he remembers that the store is closed and this is fine and she’s not dating that Finn guy and everything is fine. This is fine. “I adore your mother. She’s like this fearsome mother that I’ve always wanted.” Ben pins that piece of information away for later. “Do you need help?” 

Ben pauses. She looks so earnest, eager to assist him. And, fuck, how did this happen? “Just your company is enough.” 

“You’re so sweet, Benny.” nobody has called him Benny in years, just his mom and dad when he was small. He thinks that he can add her to that list of people. Possibly. She settles back at her table. “I can still call Poe, too. I don’t mean to intrude.” 

“You’re not,” he responds quickly. Too quickly. “Please. Stay. I don’t want anyone to get hurt out there.” Rey looks uncertain, but finally she just shrugs and picks up her pen and continues to work. 

And that’s how it goes for the next hour. Ben cleaning up the store and doing food prep; Rey, finishing her work. They make soft little comments to each other. 

“Where did you learn how to bake?” Rey asks once she finishes her work. 

Ben continues to prep the bread dough so that it can rise overnight. “My grandmother, Padme. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents when I was a kid, and she taught me everything I know. All the recipes I use in this shop are hers. I tweaked some of them, but not the pumpkin scones though. I could never change those.” 

Rey takes another bite of her scone and sits on the counter near him. “Is that why the shop is named Padme’s? After her?” 

“Yeah. This home was actually hers and my grandfather’s. I inherited it when they passed away. At the time, I wasn’t sure what to do with this place, I was young and in school. But it felt right to make it into a little cafe, just a feeling I guess.” 

And that’s how it goes. On and on, Rey asks questions and Ben responds, revealing more than he has with anyone not Hux or Rose or even his mother. He tells her more about Padme and about fishing with his grandfather, and being a football star. He reveals even the difficult stuff, the divorce and his difficult relationship with his uncle and his anger issues. “It honestly took me a lot of therapy to learn how to deal with my emotions in a healthy way.” 

“I completely get that. Growing up in foster care doesn’t always allow you to be vulnerable.” She shrugs and it’s sad and Ben looks at her in awe. 

He’s so completely in love with her it  _ hurts.  _

And that’s when Rey tells him everything. She tells him about her parents and foster care and running away from Jakku at eighteen. She talks about school and meeting Finn and teaching. No detail is spared, as she talks and talks and talks. “...so that’s why I went into teaching, I think. Because of Ms. Kanata. I miss her sometimes. She sends me Christmas cards.” With each breath she takes, each word she utters, Ben falls more deeply. How can someone so lovely as her have seen so much pain and remain so cheerful? She is a firestorm reigning supreme in his heart. 

The hours pass like that. In the small little kitchen of Ben’s cafe. Ben teaches Rey how to make pie crust. Rey convinces him to make bacon cheeseburgers for dinner. “You don’t have to be healthy every day, Ben. You can cheat sometimes,” she teases. They eat and laugh. 

“I like talking to you, Ben. It makes me feel less alone in the world. I’ve had a tough time adjusting to this new place and new job. Coming here made me feel better, like I had friends,” Rey admits quietly, talking into the room even though the statements are directed towards Ben. She’s vulnerable, but she’s letting him see her that way. 

“You’re not alone.”

“Neither are you.”

The light has long since gone from the sky, and the two are still in the cafe. Tenderly, Ben suggests moving up to the apartment upstairs. He walks her to the door that separates the cafe from his private living quarters. It’s a momentous occasion. The only people who have been up there are his mother and Rose and Hux. But Rey is special. Very special. 

“I hope this isn’t the part where you take me to your dungeon and tie me up and torture me,” she mutters. Ben looks at her, then. Head bending slightly, so that he can take in her eyes and her dimples. He shakes his dead, smiling slightly in disbelief. This day doesn’t even feel real. 

He opens the door, and they walk up the stairs to his little apartment. The place isn’t fancy. Just a cozy one bedroom place that he renovated while opening the shop. The furniture is all vintage, things he’s picked up whilst traveling the area in search of produce and coffee and anything else on the way. There’s books everywhere, none on proper shelves either. Just small stacks sparticially placed all across the place, begging to find a home. The kitchen is the highlight of the place, large with plenty of cupboard space. In short, the place is utterly and completely Ben Solo. 

Ben watches Rey as she looks around his space (she’s in  _ his  _ space, wonders never cease). She walks through the living room, gently touching all the books. She grabs one and pages through it. “I didn’t peg you as a Brontë reader.” 

He shrugs, “ _ Jane Eyre  _ is a classic. And people constantly sleep on Anne.  _ The Tenant of Wildfell Hall _ is a masterpiece if I do say so myself.” 

Rey blushes a little. “I’ve actually not read  _ The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, _ or anything by Anne. I guess I’m one of those people sleeping on her work.” 

“You can borrow it if you want. I know it’s lurking here somewhere.” Ben starts searching for this book. Such a simple thing, but it seems so important that she has it. That she has something of  _ his-- _ even if it’s just for a little bit. He quickly finds it (in the stack on what is supposed to be a dining room table but really is just a place to put books and mail and other odds and ends) and hands it to her. She smiles softly.

And then she’s looking at him. Really looking at him--at his large frame and his dark hair that curls and twists along his neck and his moles on his face.She sees his too big nose and ears that after years, he thought he was over being insecure about. It’s the sort of gaze that sees you completely--body and soul--as though he is a piece of art that needs to be analyzed with the utmost precision. He looks away from her stare, suddenly self-conscious. 

For all the talking they did downstairs, now that they are upstairs, they are silent. The only noise is the howling of the wind brushing against the window. They are so close now, closer than they ever have been before. 

“Ben,” she sighs his name. She looks so beautiful standing in his home, flannel on. She looks like she belongs here, in his space. The two stare at each other, soft desire in their eyes. The blizzard raging outside, throwing heavy sheets of snow throughout the town has nothing on the storm of conflict raging behind Ben’s eyes. 

He looks down at their hands, so close that they are almost touching. He wants to take her hand. He hopes that she wants the same. It looks like she wants to do the same as her hand moves slightly towards his. It could just be a twitch, but Ben knows. He senses it. 

“Don’t be afraid, I feel it too,” he whispers. If he speaks any louder, then the swirling tension between the two will be gone and he can’t risk it. 

Too late. She moves away quickly to the other side of the room. Ben’s heart shatters just a little bit. He should be used to this pain by now, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt. He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid crying out. Or just crying in general. 

He looks at the floor, avoiding eye contact with her so that she doesn’t see his shame. He sees her shoes, the same Converse from Halloween. The shoe strings are undone. “Your shoe’s untied.” 

Before she even gets the chance to look at her shoe, Ben bends down and starts doing the laces. “Rey, I--”

“Ben, I--,” they speak at the same time. Ben pauses, chuckling softly, motioning for her to continue. “I can take the sofa tonight, it’s your home after all.” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re my guest. I insist.” How did the night take such a nose dive? They are so awkward now, and before it seemed to be going so well. Before she could argue further, he escorts her to his bedroom. He turns the light on. It’s not that bad of a room: large bed, flannel duvet cover, big window, more books. He tries not to think too hard of Rey laying in his bed. “Let me know if you need any extra blankets or something. I have some shirts if you want to change.” Ben tries not to think about Rey in his shirt and nothing else. “Um, I’m going to wash up.” What he doesn’t tell is he’s probably going to cry in the shower. Only quiet tears though.

After his shower cry, Ben sets out an extra toothbrush for her as well as a washcloth and towel. He is nothing if not a considerate host, even though he’s pretty sure he has ruined any chance he has with her. And that's fine. She wasn’t  _ his,  _ he had no claim to her or her love. That didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

He lays down on the couch, it’s a little lumpy which should be fine just for the night. HIs feet dangle off the end of the sofa, he’s too big for this sort of thing. This is less fine but tolerable. He folds his hands over his chest and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the last hour of the day. He hears the shower running and all rational thoughts have left the building. He  _ does not  _ think about Rey in the shower. She’ll be using his soap. 

He’s really regretting all of his choices. 

The shower turns off. After a few minutes, he hears the door creak open. “Ben?” He looks up to see Rey with her hair damp wearing his shirt. It’s an old shirt from his football glory days, and it drowns on her. She’s not that small of a woman, but her height is mostly in her legs. And her legs. They are completely bare. He looks away before she catches him staring at the curve of her thighs when they reach her kneecap. 

He watches her approach the coach. He quickly shuts his eyes so that she doesn’t think he’s being crass with his stare. “Ben,” she says again. He loves how she says his name, like it’s her own mantra. “Goodnight,” she whispers. And then she does something unimaginable. She leans in and kisses his cheek. 

He hears his bedroom door close. Maybe she thinks he’s asleep? That has to be it. There’s no way that she would’ve done that otherwise. Especially because earlier, she didn’t take his hand. Why would she kiss his cheek now, but didn’t take his hand before? Ben would’ve thought that hand touching is less intense than cheek kissing. Maybe, just maybe, she feels the same way but she’s shy, too. Like him. 

Ben can’t turn these thoughts off. He has to know. He hops out of the sofa and walks up to his bedroom door and knocks. Then he waits.

Not for very long, though. She opens the door wide and stares at him. “I wasn’t asleep.” 

“What?” 

“Earlier. Just now. Whatever. I wasn’t asleep when you kissed my cheek and earlier I wanted to hold your hand. Did you want to hold mine?”

He looks at her, hopelessly earnest in his admission. She stares back with tears forming her eyes. Ben’s heart plummets, she’s going to reject him, why else would she be crying? “I did want to take your hand.”

He opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off. “I’ve wanted to hold your hand for awhile now.” He reaches forward and grabs her hands in his, intertwining their fingers together. Rey gasps as she feels his rough fingers against her soft ones. His hand is so much bigger than hers, but somehow it still fits them perfectly. 

Stepping forward, into the threshold of the room and leans down. Rey meets him halfway and their lips meet, pressing firmly together. The kiss is like them, soft and tender and perfect. It’s a kiss full of promises and hope. Rey’s mouth tastes like toothpaste. Ben reluctantly let’s go of her hand so that he can cup her face, thumb rubbing along her jawline. 

They part, staring at each other in wonderment. “Rey, I’ve been in love with you since Halloween, maybe even before that. But Halloween was the moment I knew.” 

“Why Halloween?” 

“I saw your shoes. We have the same ones. We match. We fit each other so well,” he says softly. He’s still holding her hand with one hand and cupping her face with the other. They fit so well. 

Rey kisses him again, fierce and wanting. Rey kisses as though she has something to lose, but Ben knows that she’ll never lose him. “You should’ve told me sooner. I fell in love with you when you made me pumpkin scones.” 

He steps further into the room and shuts the door behind him. “I’ll make you all the pumpkin scones in the world.” And he kisses her once more.

That night, Ben did not sleep on the lumpy sofa. It’s his best sleep yet.

⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬

The next day, Ben and Rey are greeted by a fluffy blanket of snow. They suit up to face the snow. Ben gives Rey a spare hat, fuzzy and green and sweet. They walk downstairs into the cafe. Ben makes black coffee for himself (a special Christmas blend that he’s been waiting to roll out in a couple weeks) and another stupidly sweet latte for Rey. “You’re lucky I like you,” he says as he hands her the mug. It’s caramel and toffee this time. 

“Actually you love me. Said so yourself. No take backs.” She grins, dimples on full display. Ben leans down and kisses her dimples. Rey giggles, full on childish giggle. 

Later, Rey stands on the stoop to the cafe with her second latte of the day and watches Ben shovel the sidewalk. She offered to help, but he refused. “You are not doing anything with the snow in converse. That’s just cruelty.” She likes watching him though. 

Snow is relatively new to Rey. For the most part, she kind of hates it. But maybe having Ben will make it worth it. As he finishes up, Rey spots Rose coming towards the shop, hand in hand with a lanky ginger man. She waves at the two of them, not saying anything about the fact that Rey is definitely wearing Ben’s clothes. Maybe this is home, Rey thinks to herself. After so long being aimless, maybe she has a place now. And it feels good. 

Ben looks at her with that soft look in his eyes, a look of complete and utter admiration. A look of love, Rey realizes. Somehow the grumpy man in flannel and a baseball cap became hers, like something from a romantic comedy. 

“Your shoe is untied,” he says, already leaning down to tie her shoes. And this is love--lattes and shoe strings. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please let me know if I need to add any tags, I tried to add any that I thought might apply. 
> 
> Things that inspired elements of this story:  
> For the coffee Ben mentions, that is based off of an actual dark roast coffee that my coffeeshop brews. It is delightful and is the first coffee to cozy up with by a fire.  
> Ben's coffee shop is based off a weird mash up of Luke's diner from Gilmore Girls and this coffee shop near me that is literally an old house.  
> The pumpkin scones are based off of an old coworker's recipe. They are seriously so good. I might link the recipe once I figure out how to utilize this website more.  
> My intense desire for fall. 
> 
> You can follow me on twitter!  
> @icryforbensolo


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